by Siddiq Islam
Close your tired eyes.
Listen to the butterflies
Their great cymbal wings
Crash upon your worryings.
Time to let them out.
Unscrew your top and see them flitter,
Seething, teeming, hateful, bitter.
They flounce and fluctuate.
But now inhale and watch them pale.
They start to fret, and flare and flail.
And when you let your held breath go,
They all flush out in one fell flow.
All flustering in flaming flurries,
Away they fleet, your flagrant worries.
You’re free from clutter
Now no cymbals flit or flutter,
Your mind is at rest.